


these evenings

by backlit (cuimhl)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 01:10:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13582818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuimhl/pseuds/backlit
Summary: what does it feel like to be in love?





	these evenings

**Author's Note:**

> [mood music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHpOvwTpOb0)

 

what does it feel like to be in love?

yuuri unlaces his boots. dries the blades, slips on guards, packs them away. stands, stretches. in the evenings, there is only a bluewashed sunset waiting for him outside of the rink -- slow as melting gold, lethargic as candlewax, but as easy to miss as a jump. quad axels, small and sharp.

these evenings, it’s almost winter, so the sky is heavy. occasionally swollen with rain, but most often just bricked over by cloud, hustling away the blue -- the blue of the sea, of yuuko’s peacock nail polish. of viktor’s eyes, snow-pale and striking. but it’s a weekend, and on these evenings, there’s also viktor waiting for him at home.

it makes it so easy to walk home knowing this, his feet retracing all the right steps; he can take as long as he likes, so he does, holding the starlight and night air in his lungs because it’s hard to get enough of it. viktor loves water and hot baths sluicing over his skin, but yuuri craves the open air: frostbitten mornings, windows pushed ajar, driving with the wind in his hair and the sun in his mouth. they take turns to wander home at the ends of weeks, stragglers fluttering over abandoned streets to chase a slow hum buried deep in the earth. tonight, viktor is trying to cook, so yuuri will wait to be surprised.

what _does_ it feel like? yuuri has been falling through the sky for years. sometimes he thinks he could fly, sometimes he has to hold his breath and shut his eyes and wait for the crash. like everyone else. but viktor takes his hand mid-plummet and suddenly they’re falling together and soaring together, and when neither of them know what to do it’s miles better than being alone.

yuuri hops over a crack in the pavement, and tests the sore muscle in his thigh. he hasn’t pulled anything; he and viktor have long come to an agreement about the benefits of rest and moderation. _viktor._ yuuri hurries home.

they’re not living together, yet. of course, yuuri thinks about it from time to time: being with viktor every night, cooking side by side, eating to the quiet hum of their music, dozing off in front of the television together. waking up to him, the sunlight glancing off his hair and the pensive curve of his smile in slumber; yuuri wishes, sometimes. but he thinks this -- what they have right now -- is better.

when he lifts his hand to knock, stomach tumbling over as he sees warm light framing the doorway like a lighthouse in the seawater streets, he hears the lock turn. viktor opens the door, and everything is flooded brilliant and gold and bright.

oh, what a cliché, but _how_ viktor glows in this world.

“yuuri,” he smiles, pleased.

this is what it feels like, heart skittering in his ribs but everything around him calm and right. “i’m home, viktor,” yuuri discards the crisp night behind him and opens his arms, at the same time as viktor leans in.

  
what does it feel like to be in love? well, what does it feel like to _not_ be in love? yuuri no longer remembers, and he hopes he never has to find out again.

 

 


End file.
